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Orso insisted he was fine despite his scorched clothes. No way to pass for party guests. Not that my fine dress would fare well traipsing through the dark forest. We would have to stay to the shadows.
A bell rang.Midnight.
We were too late.
Was he already dead?
Had this been for nothing?
Unable to do anything else, we set off toward the palace, leaving Pyre to make his own, slower way.
The hope inside me refused to die.
This was the forest where Dimitri caught me. This time, I was the one hunting, and no one else, even ancient undead queens, would derail me.
Even if he married another, I would fight for his life.
Morovara’s words—wear the crown, restore the balance—spurred me on. There was a way to beat Ealhswip. She did not have the real crown. She did not know I was coming for her.
Chapter twenty-eight
Dimitri
My father’s old manservant barely stopped short of grabbing me when I arrived at the royal chambers. He supervised the army of servants washing and dressing me, mumbling how I would not disappear again. My hope to talk to Helia before the party evaporated, for she would surely be in a similar situation inside the Women’s Tower, and even a king would struggle to battle his way through all the ladies of court preparing for the party of the season.
We still had time, I told myself, for the sun was only just setting.
When I left the chambers a frantic bell later, two servants—probably my third cousins or similar—followed behind, carrying the royal crowns. I had retrieved one from the treasury the previous day, the other from my closet, deciding to trust Vanya. Magic might have warped her mind—it was the only explanation I could think of, and not unusual even with well-trained mages. Tomorrow, I would ask Mariska to visit her and judge the damage. It did not matter, I loved her in any state.
Love.
It was as if seeing Dasha opened my heart, frozen emotions flowing again. I loved Mariska,Alexei, and Eki as friends and family. I loved Vanya Komarova, even when she hated me, even when I had to walk away.
In the great hall, candelabras and standing tables lined the walls, ladened with food and drink. Red, blue, and purple flower garlands hung from the high ceiling. My guests—anyone in Tal rich or noble enough to warrant an invitation according to von Uster—drank and laughed, dressed in white to honor the dead. Only Helia and I wore red for fertility and luck.
Nothing felt right about the elaborate, embroidered coat and ostentatious, gilded ceremonial sword at my side.
The nobles bowed and curtsied as I passed on my way to the dais, and the only two seats in the hall. All eyes would be on my bride and I until we retired at midnight for the ceremony in the crypt. Three bells until I sealed my fate.
The crowns were placed on the black stone table. How I wished a thief would come again to steal them away. The pain in my chest caught my breath when my bride entered. Her long red dress, cut low enough to showcase her shoulders and collarbone, swished across the floor with each step. At this distance, my mind thought it washer, they were so alike. Memories of the single perfect day Tempest and I had returned with force. My breath locked in my chest. Only twice we had shed our clothes, and still, her whole body was mapped in my mind. The curves and dips, the birthmarks like stars to guide me true, the touch that made her moan.
Then Helia stepped closer, the illusion broke, and I cursed myself. If Tempest did show up here, I might have to kill her for real. It turned my stomach, for I knew I could not.
I would sacrifice the respect of all gathered before I hurt a hair on her head again.
Helia settled beside me, spreading her wide skirts, heavy with rubies.
“Terribly gaudy affair. When I was a child, I dreamt of visiting Tal during the Day of the Dead. This does not live up to years of childish imaginings.”
She took me off guard again. Another thing she had in common with Vanya, though there was nothing teasing in Helia’s tone. She did not say it to rile me. She stated the plain truth and did not care who heard.
“I apologize that it’s not more to your liking. The city will be packed, foreigners and worshipers mixing and celebrating. Maybe that’s more to your liking. Another year, when it’s safe, you could attend the festival.” I lowered my voice. “I need to speak to you about wedding vows and heirs.”
She turned her astute eyes, giant behind the glasses, on me. “So, have you reconsidered marrying me? Am I about to be publicly rejected like the last princess?” I might have stuttered something incomprehensible as she continued. “Or is this when you declare your undying love and need for me to bear your children?”
“I already have a child,” I whispered.
She blinked, mouth opening and closing, thoughts racing behind her large eyes.
